I spent the better part of five days wandering picturesque Paris, while many Parisian's were on holiday, I wandered the streets, ate the bread, drank the coffee and wine and soaked in the feel of why the world goes to Paris. Despite the recent attacks on the city within the year, Paris maintains that feeling of love, wine, food and cigarettes as the sun sets. My friend Emily reminded me, nothing will stop Parisian's from enjoying themselves. I spent a day at the Louve, I had never visited before, and I mainly wanted to wisk by the Mona Lisa and hang with all the 17th and 18th century Italian and Spanish painters, and also steep myself in art of the Italian Renaissance which always tickles me. Paintings as tall and as long as small houses, with characters, gods and demons swirling all around shows such a dedication to the creation of something so much bigger than ones self. Art of such scale tells incredible stories, not only in what is being depicted but also in what the artist was trying to attain, also talk about dedication.
A mere six hours at the museum was only a taste of what they had to offer. If you have ever been to the Louve you understand, if you have not, go in off season or else you might drown in tourists, it was crowded for an off season day. Emily and I spent a beautiful hung over morning in one of the most famous graveyards in Paris, that is home to Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf, Moliere, and many other sweet famous folks, and is also vast and hauntingly beautiful. We met up with an old Vermont Friend Juan, drank to much wine on canals and rolled Patanque (French Bocci Ball) with lovely strangers from across the world. Emily and I also spent a day in the strangest park I have ever visited, which was a left to the wilds, and is a turn of the 1900 century exhibition of the colonies of the French Empire. Each now derelict building represented a different country, and they even flew in families from the countries to live there during the actually exhibition at the time, crazy. Also before I knew it I found myself saying goodbye to Emily and all the lovely ones of Paris and was en-route on another overnight bus to Barcelona.
I have never visited Spain, do not speak Spanish, however I have dreamed for years of the food, the winding streets and ancient churches. I rolled up in the early morning when the city was most definitely not awake (Dinner does not usually start until at earliest 9pm, and you party until the sun comes up). I spent my time in Barcelona with an old childhood friend Sam, that had relocated to Barcelona, and was killing it doing online web design, photography and food blogging as well as an occasional food tour. I could not have wished for a better reconnect with an old friend over delicious food and drink, or a better guide. Every day we ate different Tapa, fish or yummy dish of Barcelona, and I died with all the goodness. I spent the better part of the evenings at the block festival going on in the neighborhoods north of the center, were every block decorate there street to the nine's in themed reused materials, from Star Wars to Jules Verne. We danced and partied until the early light until I collapsed exhausted and extremely happy. Travel is an absolute beautiful heart/mind screw. You soak up different places, languages, foods and people and fall in love with all the differences and similarities of the human experience, only to realize that you can only just taste them all a bite.
There is not enough years in a life to bury yourself within each culture, especially when traveling quickly. Sam and I spent one of my last days hiking up to the fort that overlooks the city, taking photographs and marveling at the different in perspective even a hike up a hill can have of a place. life moves with a sad beauty that blows me a way, and within a few days I was off again flying to an place I have crossed many times but not seen for years, ye old England.
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